


Black Cape

by moroder



Series: Lost Hopes and Dreams [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, The overall atmosphere is quite sad actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroder/pseuds/moroder
Summary: In the CORE is an elevator directly to ASGORE's castle.Spoilers for True Pacifist ending, a bouquet of headcanons and tea. And kingdings.





	1. introduction

The kingdom is quiet. Not because of two gone kids no longer tapping on the wooden floors. It thundered after that. The King declared a war. Promises and threatening rattled. Words full of hatred and righteous, furious anger.  
Being a king is hard. At first, you are fully willing to have revenge on humans for all the irretrievable losses they brought to monsters. Then, as you start executing the plan, the only creature closest to you quits believing. She is desperate, frightened by your actions. She leaves and never returns, and from that moment, you're all alone.  
You carry out the plan. All humans that fall down the mountain are captured and brought to you immediately. They are scared; they know what happens next.  
You kill every single one. Your hands tremble, and your attacks grow weak as the humans bleed. You can't end them without giving a chance to fight back. They are weaker than you, those humans, weaker and younger. Somehow, none of them is older than twelve. They die quietly, not even giving away a death rattle - they fall unconscious, and their SOULs float away from the bodies. Bright, colored SOULs, equal in power to hundreds and thousands of monsters. Bodies do not turn to dust instantly - they need time, and you need coffins. Three SOULs are contained inside transparent glass capsules; three bodies lie still in the cyan, orange and blue coffins respectively.

This is all your fault.  
  
The kingdom is quiet because the monsters are waiting. They believe in freedom, in justice. In the king without a queen. Life runs still until another human comes down. Panic ensues, they are captured very soon. The head of the Royal Guard is merciless; he kills the fourth human himself. The Royal Scientist receives the captured violet SOUL, and the castle basement receives another body.  
Being a Royal Scientist is hard. Life was easier when two were in charge of the kingdom: they only needed him in case they couldn't sort things out together. Since the Queen's resign, the king only made serious decisions after discussing them with the court, among them being the Royal Scientist. For Dr Gaster, it's not unusual - he has lately turned into a counselor. Science was his area mostly though; building the CORE and looking for alternative power sources were his ideas truly. The Barrier could be destroyed with a colossal amount of power, and he thought about using the CORE for the purpose of that, although it would likely not work at all. Each harvested SOUL went through his hands, blinding him with its shine and burning him with its energy - that being said, this energy made holes in his palms. Four SOULs burned them through. He has also designed storage units for the captured SOULs, made of materials indestructible by their energy: glass. They were constructed in Hotland where  glass heated up to almost impossible temperatures. It held the SOULs safe and well, no destructions, dimly glowing.  
  
Is it hard to rule a kingdom that believes in your wrong, bloodstained actions?  
A while ago, perhaps, it would be easier to give an answer.


	2. keep your remorse to yourselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you defeat Asgore, he says that he wants to see his son **and** wife, so I kinda thought him to believe that Toriel is dead

"The Queen is dead."

_Her very Lowness with her head in a sling_  
_I'm truly sorry but it sounds like a wonderful thing_

Words of Snowdin's messenger rolled shakily around the throne room and stuck at the ceiling. The small monster stood trembling and facing the floor as he was too scared to look at the king. He stood right in front of the throne that lacked its owner; when the messenger looked up, he saw Asgore at the window near the second covered throne.  
"Could you repeat that... please?" he asked quietly, and the monster took a deep breath.

**_Queen Toriel is dead!_ **

The worst of all was the inevitability of this tragic event. Toriel had left the throne more than a week ago, and only a few monsters whispered to each other that they've probably seen someone who looked like Queen. No one approached her, no one tried to talk or do anything - and she was gone. Not to be seen by anyone again.  
«Came in hand», some Royal Guard observes dimly. «Ain't gonna get any more reports». Someone chuckles unhappily after that and fades to silence.

They didn't even know for sure if the place was correct. They've only found a pile of grey dust where it wasn't supposed to be. Then monsters discussed it and concluded that... well, it’s happened the way it’s happened. Despite those who saw the dust themselves, monsters from other parts of underground kingdom couldn't believe in Toriel's death; they wanted proof, wanted to make sure before deciding so fast. Nevertheless, their number was insufficiently small.

The kingdom fell into mourning truly united.

Almost every building received a sad violet stripe across it. Windows were closed with purple curtains, doorknobs with thin violet cloth pieces; these small things also got their place at the monsters' clothes: their jackets and vests were stained with a feeling of honorable sadness.  
Only Asgore escaped this fate; his cape was already full of purple underground sorrow, covering him with a thick layer of long-lost hopes and regrets.

_"your remorse…"_

Dr. Gaster felt uneasy. While everything drowned in violet color, he remained coal black - he didn't put on anything mournful.

_"keep it to yourself."_

His ordinary grayish soul trembled continuously, almost shattering itself. Hands, always bandaged, couldn't hold still as someone was talking about her.  
_her._

_"why do you bring your remorse to me, I don't need any"_

All of this made him horribly sick, all the _mess and disorder_ around. From the very day Toriel has spat out everything she thought about her husband's decisions and left, from that day on _he_ was staying by his side. He supported Asgore at almost anything, giving advices, spending sleepless nights to find the necessary answers. _She_ is the reason the king is broken now. A king without a queen, what does he even represent?  
The doctor knew he couldn't take the Queen's place, so he became a counselor. There hadn't even been such position before she has left. Quite a troublesome position. Gaster's spine slouched even more; he always kept loads of paper in his hands, he stopped wishing good morning to his colleagues in the lab.  
They didn't know, unfortunately, that the only one he could wish a sincere good morning to was Dreemurr.

_"she meant nothing to me, please stop, don't talk to me about this"_

-but they don't stop, they come and say: we're sorry, we're sorry for _your loss_. He doesn't get it. They also visit the king, wishing him to stay tough and all the stuff people usually wish out of politeness. Why do then need to visit Gaster then?  
Oh, if only anyone asked him about that. He'd tell them why he's avoiding the Queen so much. She is nothing for the kingdom. She left - no one held her. We have a path she disagreed with - she took a turn and that's her decision. She died - and even then, she remained on everybody's lips in the kingdom she left and rejected, and everyone is _so sorry, everyone misses her so damn much._

Dr. Gaster clenches his teeth, and the world around him slowly becomes out of tune.

It hurt, really hurt to even look at the king back at those times. He groaned, thinking about his counselor position, although it was second highest in the kingdom. He cared little about the position since it didn't allow him to just stroke the king's jaw line carelessly, touch his shoulders, and perhaps say something silly and always working. What do they usually say while trying not to spoil the mood? Something like 'we're gonna make it'. Or maybe 'they believe in you, and so do I, that's why you're gonna make it'. Lord, Gaster sighed quietly, why would he ever be interested in your faith? Who are _you?_  
The Royal Scientist. A genius, as many at the castle said. Many at the lab. He hated it but never explained why. A lot of torn phrases, thoughts and dissolved facts swarmed his mind continuously; then he combined them into spontaneous theories somehow, and they found their way onto the paper sheets - the cleanest version of his ideas. Power feed for the Underground was also his task; the plans on building the CORE, a huge power station, were number one priority. He worked on technical support for Hotland; he was responsible for creating containers for the gathered human souls. These small energy clots turned everything to dust, including his own hands; he was **everything-**  
and _nothing for **him.**_

_please don't go, i love you so_  
_my lovely_

He stands at the throne, hands behind him; no one noticed the bandages this way, not even Asgore, and he couldn't, he has never had to. He stands still, and it hurts him that it's the only possible thing to do. Even more, it never helps; but the king smiles lightly, offers him a cup of tea and asks how working on the CORE is going. _He's not interested_ , Gaster tells himself, _it's just out of courtesy. He's not interested in how much you sleep and if you sleep at all, he's not interested in you, that's it._  
However, the scientist gives in. He knows he has to, and he agrees to stay. He never watches the clock ( _happiness takes no account of time?_  he saw this in some human book), and why would he? It's his position - being beside Asgore, listening and giving advices. Technically, he has to stay here twenty-four hours a day but he cannot - in both physical and moral ways.

 _He's not interested in you,_ a liquid loathsome voice comes alive, hitting his head. _He's gonna start talking about his dead wife again, and you'll howl and have to apologize because it's all your own fault-_  
But Asgore doesn't talk. Moonlight shines dimly through the cracks in Mt. Ebott, illuminating Throne Room, flowers and two monsters in its center. The light, white and cold, brings an ominous tone to the king's cape and his contended face. It, however, doesn't approach Gaster, stopping in a couple of steps before.

_please don't go, please don't go_  
_i love you so, i love you so_  
_please break my heart, ah ha_

Let it be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Happiness takes no account of time" is a quote from "Woe from Wit" by Alexander Griboyedov;  
> and the quotes in italics come from "The Queen Is Dead" by The Smiths and "Breezeblocks" by alt-J.


	3. tool of god's own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a follow-up to previous chapter  
> the quotes are also from "Breezeblocks" by alt-J.

_Muscle to muscle and toe to toe  
_ _The fear has gripped me but here I go_

He keeps working. There's a lot of scenarios in his ingenious head, both possible and impossible. He could work out every single one - or try to, if resetting allows that.

RESET is a weird thing after all. It only jumps back a little but how radically the world is changing after using it. When Gaster has only found out such phenomenon, he was horrified at some point - that was a world-editing instrument, fair and simple. Not a thing to fiddle with, he kept telling himself, then doing completely opposite.

He forgot how many times he used this small feature of his. Sometimes he didn't even control it; it happened that he asked about something his brothers did at home and received surprised looks in response.

 

_At home…_

 

He won't remember the day when it went not as he thought. Or as he wanted. The RESET snapped in one moment, and an aching, burdensome feeling entangled Gaster, not bringing good predictions _at all_. Some inner voice of his insisted on resetting again - so he did. Again. And again, and again, until he lost the count. The last RESET had a longer time segment, throwing him at the very throne room. Gaster only managed to open his eyes and stumble back.

Right in front of him, clenching a raggedy book in their hands, a human child stood still. They stood and looked straight at him, the Royal Scientist. The counselor who wasn't present. And behind the child - it fogged his eyes - a large purple cape lied still on yellow damaged flowers, covered in dust. Something also purple pulsated violently in the kid's chest, shining so brightly that its light passed through Gaster's black matter onto the opposite wall. The human stared at the monster through their cloudy glasses, horrified and challenging at the same time.

Gaster looked not at them but at the stomped flowers behind. Frankly, he didn't even see that creature; he coudn't look away from the enormous violet cloth.

Momentarily, a blaster flash zapped through. The nasty little human didn't make a sound - and their SOUL floated away from their now non-existent body. An oozing wave of its energy floated through the room, making one's head dizzy and legs clumsy; but Gaster didn't need the SOUL, he didn't need anything, not anymore. He stumbled, passing it by, right forward; he fell knees down on dusty flowers and touched the cape with unsteady hands. Turned out seeing the end of someone's suffering hurts thousand times more than just suffering by itself.

 

_My heart sinks as I jump up  
_ _Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut_

Instant sharp pain woke him from a short lethargy. He was still in Throne Room, but the reckless violet SOUL was hidden under a glass cane - the only substance it wouldn't ruin, - and his hand was gripped firmly by Asgore's, safe and relatively well. He asked whether everything is all right, and the scientist withdrew his hand sharply, not answering. He escaped under excuse of an urgent phone call.

 

_he was dead and came alive now. that kid somehow killed him, and here he finished it himself. is this all my fault. could my skips change anything and now_

 

A horrible maze of thoughts came through like a whirlwind till someone answered the phone.

"who is this?"

"Sans, that's... Wingdings."

"oh, sup, bro", the voice responded cheerfully. "what's up?"

"Working issues... Could you please put mom on the phone?"

Silence hung on the other end of call. Gaster was about to yell at the poor phone to get a response, but the younger brother's voice came back.

"erm... haven't you told me she died soon after paps was born? are you sure you're all right?"

Sans' exclamations didn't bother the scientist much now, as he hung up the phone. That's the outcome, then. The king's life for a happy family. A foolish thing to think which one he'd choose - it would be his fault either way.

 

He keeps working. He keeps being Asgore's right hand in the kingdom's problems and resolutions. He silently glances at the photo of his brothers whom he's got no time to spend with at all.

He never tells any soul what he'd seen on his own. The fact he sometimes wakes up sweating cold isn't good for anyone. The only recurring nightmare is a kid, standing in front of a dusty purple cape; and Gaster falls out of this dream, his long insecure fingers grab his shoulders, and he sits still for a long time, muttering the same thing over and over until falling asleep again.

 

_please don't go_

_i'll eat you whole_

_i love you so_

_i love you so_

_please don't go_

_i'll eat you whole_

_i love you so_

_i love you so_

**_i love you so_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole thing with Breezeblocks was actually inspired by this post: http://darkdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com/post/134636773159


	4. soul problems

The king was going to visit his people far from the castle. Snowdin was perfect - a small lively town, cold but hospitable and happy. Asgore remembered how the tradition of tree decorating was created; he participated in that as well. Being Santa was an interesting job for a while... before his children have died.  
His unhappy memories passed by. The Riverperson sat silent at the boat, only dropping a couple of words about a man from the other world. Nobody really listened to their rambling, only children occasionally asked questions that Riverperson never answered. The king smiled politely, silent.

Snowdin was wonderful. That's exactly how Asgore remembered this place. Same library with a typo in its sign, the Inn with a shop nearby; a tree with presents piled under it. Even the bar didn't go anywhere; that's where the king was heading. It's worth mentioning that even without the cape the size of his figure couldn't compare to other monsters; local canine guard unit in front of him looked like a bunch of puppies. It added to the image of a big and reasonable king which he deep inside didn't support at all. Monsters didn't have to know everything that happened to him.

 

He only just slipped through the bar's door, and its visitors gasped and sat still - then exploded as one. Starting with Asgore scratching the ceiling with his horns and apologizing repeatedly, followed by his request to bring something least alcoholic - it all maintained his unofficial Fuzzy Pushover nickname. Any monster he appealed to was ready to tell some local story or anything else on their life to catch the king's attention. He listened to all of them, and a warm, pleasant feeling of being one with his people filled him with reassurance, somewhere deep in his SOUL it supported the original plan of seven deaths, four of which have already happened; it was only required for the greater good, no matter how it's done. Finally dragging himself out of the poker table (brushing his horns against the wooden ceiling once again), he managed to sit at the bar and take his order - a glass of ice cold water, its size being one gulp for the king. He moved to the side awkwardly, pushing someone nearby who groaned and turned away; Dreemurr faced him and raised an eyebrow. A bandaged hand held an almost empty glass; staring at the desk, the Royal Scientist was sitting next to him. Judging by his condition, he had a very bad day or... well, the king didn't bother to guess.

"Doctor Gaster?" he asked in low voice, moving closer, though his tone didn't quite allow him to make it low. The other monster flinched, tearing his gaze away from the wooden desk, and glanced at Asgore, highly embarrassed. King barely held himself from grabbing him and carrying him home.

"I, I was going to leave", Gaster stuttered, moving the glass away. "I apologize, your majesty."  
"It's nothing", he shrugged. "I'm coming home as well."  
Monsters around them grunted, hearing this, but their dissonance died away soon.  
"Should I keep you company?" Asgore suggested, standing up. The scientist shrugged, melancholic, tossed some gold to the barman and headed to the exit.

  
"Doctor Gaster."  
"Yeah?"  
Asgore sighed; his friend was falling asleep. Their boat jiggled, and river waves soothed them, whooshing calmly.  
"Can I ask you one question... as a friend?"  
He didn't answer at once.  
"Your majesty, you will ask it anyway. You're allowed to."  
"Gaster, what’s happened?"  
What’s happened. Such a simple question, yet it could be answered anyhow. A possible version is almost drinking highly toxic ethanol liquid that your colleagues poured into your mug by mistake. One could lie and say everything is fine. But the doctor was drunk, and nothing held his words undisclosed anymore.  
"It hasn't happened, it’s happening now. Four SOULs, correct? That's how much we’ve collected?" Asgore nodded. "Mm-hm. Four innocent creatures died. They talked to me."  
"Gaster... SOULs do not talk", the king interrupted him.  
"Sure. Have I ever lied to you, your majesty?"  
"It doesn't matter if you lie or not. What matters is your perception. SOULs cannot talk."  
"They can. They were only just children. They shined so brightly that... that I couldn't hold them." Gaster waved his hand lazily, and the bandage fell down his knees; Asgore frowned, seeing a coal black hole in white flesh. "They slowly kill me for communicating. Sweet."  
He laughed, cackling, and covered his face with another yet bandaged hand.  
"Gaster, I-"  
"But we're getting closer, aren't we? Step by step, life by life. Small sacrifices, that's it. Heheh..."

Cuddling his knees, the scientist buried his face in them, turning away from the king. Silence fell; only the Riverperson mumbled an unconscious song. Quite a lot of time has passed completely motionless. Asgore only moved as the waves shook sleeping Gaster and threw him closer - he didn't even notice that. Sighing quietly, Dreemurr grabbed the monster's thin fingers - another thing unnoticed. He covered it by his large hands and concentrated on healing magic; the ruler of all monsters, he could at least patch up a small wound. Several minutes later, he looked at the results; not ideal, of course, and the flesh wasn't restored, but at least the wound border became smooth and comparatively clean. The hands' owner was sound asleep, so Asgore decided to heal the other hand as well. His memories started to flow: as a human child named Chara, long dead, was leaving the castle and returning with hands bruised; then king Dreemurr placed them on his knee, held their small hands and healed the bruises, asking to keep this a secret from Toriel. His son Asriel was a bit less keen on adventures, yet he followed his friend everywhere.  
Lost in thoughts, Asgore didn't realize that the boat arrived to its destination. Gaster was still asleep, face buried in his shoulder; with a sigh, the king lifted him in the air, thanked the Riverperson and headed back home.

 

Gaster felt uncomfortable. Lying on a relatively large bed half-naked was just as enough for him, and then he saw a note attached to the table nearby. "Dr Gaster," the note said, "I apologize for inconvenience. I had to leave you at my home until you wake up. As this happens, please visit me at Throne Room. -Dreemurr".  
Monster put the paper aside and sat up slowly, moving the blanket away. He desperately tried to remember what happened last night that the king had to apologize for that. The king but not _Gaster_. The scientist palpated his clothes: a regular laboratory outfit, beige sweater and pants... undone; something black and neatly folded lied on a chair before him - must've been his coat. And most of all, his head hurt something awful. Gaster was an odd monster resembling a mixture of skeleton and human, but his head hurt nonetheless. Completely broken, he pulled himself from under the sheets and finally got up.

He was certainly placed somewhere inside the king's New Home, according to notes; then it occurred to him that he's in the king's very room. It came out particularly as a huge red and white Santa suit peeking out of the closet; and the bed size was just enough for Asgore. Realization of spending the whole night in his bed had struck poor Gaster to the point of blushing violet color. Not losing any more time, he grabbed his coat, stormed out of the room and slammed its door shut, then went out to look for the host.

It was fairly quiet here, even quieter than the castle; there were the courtmen and other citizens the king needed, but here in his house he must've been the only one to visit. The scientist didn't peek inside the other rooms although they were definitely open - that's not his division, after all. He wandered around for a while until he’s reached the castle corridors - the only living soul he found there happened to be an astonished to meet him Snowdin guard who has then directed him straight to Throne Room.

Gaster was nervous. No wonder, he’s thought over everything he could. Passing by the last corridor that was always lit by something resembling sunlight, he stopped for a while and then put the coat on - he kept the same dress code while visiting Asgore. Once again, he stopped in front of 'Throne Room' sign; low humming could be heard from the hall, and the king was presumably present. He was so absorbed in cutting a bush in a shape of something that he didn't notice a visitor. Only as Gaster stumbled and almost fell down on the flowers, the ruler turned around.

"Ah, good morning, doctor!» The voice filled the room in a few seconds, echoing from its walls. "How are you today?"  
Slim monster shook his head and straightened up, putting hands behind him - a regular pose for visiting.  
"May I attend to my work?" he said, as indifferent and calm as possible.  
"Mmh... about your work. Please hold on."  
Gaster didn't move, though the white pellets in his eyes flinched.  
"Tell me, are you... getting tired of all this? I mean working with the human SOULs."  
He gulped. A question escaped his mouth by itself.  
"What’s happened overnight?"  
"Oh, yesterday? I found you in a bar in Snowdin and suggested bringing you home. However, you've been a little... unable to do so, and I had to leave you at New Home."  
"Oh no", the scientist gasped. "That, that is so horrible, I'm... I'm so sorry about this."  
"It's nothing", Asgore smiled genuinely, although it didn't help. "Back to my question."  
"Did I babble that much?" Gaster asked in a shaky voice, losing his confident posture.  
"Babble? Don't say that. You’ve only said a couple of words about SOULs, that's all."  
"...that means I _did_ babble."  
Silence filled the space between them. Gaster desperately tried to look at any part of Asgore's face that wasn't his eyes; at the end, his gaze stopped at his beard.  
"Have you been hallucinating anytime?"  
"No."  
"Are you sure?"  
"No", he answered a bit late. The king smiled again, even warmer.  
"If something troubles you, you can always count on me. Not as a king, but... as a friend". He squinted. "Or is _this_ the problem?"  
"It isn't", Gaster grunted. "Nothing troubles me, I've just... Been overworking lately. I'm alright."  
"If you really thought so, your hands wouldn't become... what they are now."  
Rubbing his left wrist for a long time, the monster froze. Then he pulled that hand from behind and stared at a clean hole in it, astonished. His right hand looked the same. He could hardly tear his gaze away from the emptiness of his palms and glanced at the king.

"What... what is... this?"  
"This is something you shouldn't have kept hidden", Asgore muttered louder, entering a serious tone. "I couldn't regenerate flesh but it's already something. Destruction stopped and wounds clea-"  
"Oh. My God. Asg- your majesty... that was too much."  
"You, my friend, are totally welcome."  
"I would get medical help anyw-"  
"You are welcome."

Then the Royal Scientist nodded slowly, probably half a dozen of times, and moved cautiously out of Throne Room. The king obviously expected something different from his subordin- friend, but... That's just what Wingdings Gaster was.


	5. cinnamonless

Human legends say that kings were supposed to run feasts. It's not like monster history exactly repeated human one, but the feast part doubled at some point. The underground kingdom ruler exceeded some small houses in size, so apparently he had to eat a lot. During relatively blissful and quiet times, the royal family held a tradition of non-luxurious holiday dinners which anyone in the kingdom could attend. After the well-known events thundered around, the tradition died away. As the queen left, the warmest part of New Home vanished with her along with eating habits.  
  
Quiet times were the rarest occasion in Dr Gaster's laboratory, but this was exactly the moment they occurred. Even Alphys couldn't be heard anywhere. Supervisor sat at his table where the blueprints and drawing instruments were shoved aside; right in the center lay three crumpled paper sheets. Each of them was scribbled with a lengthy handwriting, and each contained a butterscotch pie recipe. Only few phrases were different in them, and each paper recipe was seemingly defective.  
Doctor watches them and contemplates, so hard the air around him buzzes and white pupils in his eyes shrink to tiny dots. He attempts to make a choice between three possible ways:  
A) find a flaw in recipes himself and try to bake a pie;  
B) phone someone who knows both him and cooking;  
C) leave it alone and continue entering data into the program.  
Third one would be the most possible for Gaster if he didn't find those notes in his coat pockets. He's obtained it two weeks ago from Asgore's home, particularly from his kitchen trashcan. However, he only paid attention to them now. He didn't have to amaze himself with it for a long time; it wasn't hard to guess why king would so desperately want to recover the pie recipe of his presumably dead wife. One of the best memories left by Toriel was that meal she cooked the most - it became their children's favorite.  
Gaster sat still, propping his chin and contemplated silently whether he should try to rebuild the recipe at all.  
  
First action was calling someone familiar with cooking; somehow, that turned out to be Dr Gaster's younger brother as the closest monster to him. The call addressee didn't answer at once, and no one was satisfied with the conversation. Caller hung up and mumbled something about inability to cook and silly jokes; Sans has actually laughed it off and announced that asking him anything about cooking is simply dangerous - yet tha sentence that was not a joke. Another way, finding out mistakes шт recipes himself, was incredibly simple but... How was Gaster supposed to tell what's wrong without trying out everything himself? Comparing them to each other didn't bring him any closer to solution.  
Then he decided to ACT.  
Blast furnaces were built to make metal, even the instructions told so (although no one really reads instructions, huh?). But they never mentioned anything about baking pies in them - that's exactly what the Royal Scientist exploited. At least blast furnaces were familiar to him, unlike normal furnaces, although their construction in the underground was actually quite similar.  
Finding ingredients was not a problem; though shopkeepers looked at him quite surprised, mentioning that such person shouldn't be buying groceries themselves. Words 'mix the ingredients to make a dough' have stunned Gaster - and not for the last time! He spent quite a lot of time searching the Undernet for dough recipes and making one; forming pies and filling them took slightly less. So he sat, the genius creator of the CORE, and watched a form filled with butterscotch placed in the furnace's burning glow. An intimidating view, though after all the nerve cells he sacrificed, it calmed him somehow, and a feeling of not wasting time for nothing actually touched him. As the third pie baked, passion in his 'veins' changed to waiting apathy, and he just contemplated it, like a fat cat near the mouse hole that knew its pray would crawl out sooner or later.

"Good evening, doctor!"  
A soft bass rolled around the cell, surrounding Gaster and catching him completely by surprise. Did he _have_ to come here right _now_?

"Oh yes, your majesty... I didn't expect you down here."  
"Come on, Gaster, we're alone. Don't use titles titles. In the latest report, you mentioned that the blast furnaces needed more power, so I came down to check myself. How is it?"  
"It is...", monster tried to forget the pie, "it is alright, although yes, I'd increase it a bit. It'd boost the CORE building maybe."  
"Well, if you still think so... wait, what is that smell?" Asgore sniffed the air; the scientist stood up, heading to the furnaces. Smelled like some kind of pastry, though Gaster seemed to adapt to it already and didn't really recognize the smell. He opened the furnace hatch, stuck both hands inside without any gloves or whatsoever and drew out a smoking pie form; in the very next moment, he froze under the king's shocked gaze.  
"Did you just... put your bare hands into the furnace?" he pressed out, his expression not changing. Monster nodded calmly, still holding the hot form. "Were the holes in your palms not enough for you?"  
"Asgore", he rushed, putting the form on a table nearby, "my palms were damaged by the SOUL energy. I am capable of enduring a high level of physical temperatures. Here, look at this." He stretched out his hands, and through the holes it could be seen how horror on the king's face slowly changed to disbelief.  
"Okay, fine. Let it be. Don't exploit it though, Wingdings." Gaster shivered, hearing his first name. "Now... wait. Did you bake pies in a blast furnace?"

The Royal Scientist braced himself for worst and nodded; but the only thing that followed was thunderous laugh tumbling the room.  
"I always knew you're up to incredible stuff, but this time... Gaster, you're beyond limits!" Asgore's laugh sounded so sincere that he anxiously smiled too. "And never would I think you're experimenting with cooking as well. What are you baking?"  
"Butterscotch... pies."

For a couple of seconds they fell silent; Dr Gaster stared at the iron giant in front, and the king collected his thoughts.  
"I had three recipes and none was defective - here they all are. Then I decided to go the practical way, and I failed, just as I thought, they're just-"  
"So you made my mistake too", Dreemurr chuckled, patting him on the shoulder and making his back crook. "You thought it's in the recipe. We have all tried her pies sometime, haven't you as well?"  
"More than once."  
"That's it. I tried hard, very hard to bring it back. Changed the order of mixing ingredients, changed salt with sugar - whatever. It was only later that I realized - it's not the recipe that matters but the cook. These pies taste different because we're not Tori, obviously."

The scientist stood silent and thought whether the fact of solving the problem would make the bad memories disappear. Honestly, there was no problem - he created it himself, not asking Asgore who figured everything out long time ago.  
"Anyway, just that you're cooking something is commendable. But please... do it in a place more designed for that." The king headed to exit, and soon only his footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Gaster contemplated the pie in deep thought when a sudden idea struck him as a faint glimmer.

"What if I add cinnamon?"


	6. you, my gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was written in January and I was super depressed back then  
> it also contains a spoiler to my other fic "codename: ASTER" in the very end

The whole kingdom was involved in celebration every year. Somewhere, like in Snowdin, it lasted unbreakable the whole year; but in Hotland it looked more like a symbolic holiday as snow evaporated in seconds - yes, someone tried to bring snow even here. Present trees were made of metal and melted along with snow, but they were being placed anyway - and the monsters were happy. Everyone thought of arrival of the New Year as a holiday of united peace and bliss, the tiny piece of happiness among the dread of their imprisonment. And it never discouraged any monster; each member of their families received a gift from someone signed as Santa, and who didn't happen to have one received it from the real Santa, the one and only in the underground.  
Heartwarming holidays, evenings at the bar and other establishments, New Year entertainment run by MTT television; snow plays and endless celebrating songs... Every monster remembered this atmosphere from their very childhood, including king Asgore whose dearest wish would be returning to his child years when he celebrated New Year under real skies.

As everyone else, he waited for this holiday more than his birthday. Somebody was (un)lucky enough to be born on the New Year, among them Wingdings Gaster whose memories of these two occasions were all shuffled. He stopped celebrating long ago, though - he only increased his age by one each year, then gave up on this: after all, he wasn't a boss monster with kids to count his age for. Luckily for him, the only brother of his that needed a Santa was Papyrus; the other one asked not to worry about it as he was going to sort things out with him (Santa) on his own. Sans wasn't much younger than Dr Gaster, and they communicated with kind of an ease.

Inside his desk locker, an envelope signed with Waterfall location lay still, waiting to be passed to Sans next morning. The next year's calendar was also ready to be hung instead of the old one, buried under a pile of white and blue paper sheets. At the said desk, the Royal Scientists placed himself, fidgeting a pen with his long thin fingers and gazing somewhere outside the windows; through the semitransparent glass ornamented with Delta Rune, only the high cave tops could be seen along with crimson fog filling the space just above lava; and of course, complete darkness.  
Dr Gaster was ready for every single thing waiting for him in the next year.  
  
  
At this New Year, Asgore kisses Gaster for the first time.

It wasn't the first time laboratory workers decorated the castle and, by king's request, his house. Quoting him, staying home longer than overnight only happened during holidays, so let the cheerful mood be there as well. Yellow flowers shook their heads discontentedly upon their vases being moved to clean the dust under them; bookshelves, empty grey walls, even the mirror by the end of corridor - nothing escaped decorating. An especially large amount of yellow and silver tinsel straps covered them, shining so brightly it blinded people, although Asgore was overall satisfied. Alphys was the one most excited around all the decorations, accompanied by some constant companion of hers who always offered a shoulder to lean on where her short hands couldn't reach for the higher places. What a gentleman! Alphys had set a daunting task of decorating every single doorjamb in the house, and with the door height it turned into an alpinist show. It ended well though; each jamb had received a sugary-red colored stripe and lots of tiny figurines across it.  
Fortunately for him, Gaster was late for the decor meeting as he had only returned to labs at late evening. Although Waterfall was relatively close to Hotland comparing to Snowdin, New Year completely burdened the Riverperson with constant trips here and there; so the scientist had to take a walk home and back. At least Papyrus was head over heels with joy, seeing him at home again. Lately Wingdings stopped even noticing how much time he spent at work; Sans quit reminding him - must've got tired of it. Therefore, returning to the labs, he found no one present. No wonder: everyone must've already left for the party, and Gaster had no idea where to. Visiting the king and asking him for direction seemed the healthiest solution that he decided to carry out.

On his way to the castle, he met almost no one but some bypassing monsters who didn't celebrate anything at all. Reaching New Home, monster switched to tiptoes, trying to make less noise. The door to Asgore's room was wide open but the silence overwhelmed Gaster, making him doubt the king's location; however, he still peered inside and found out he was wrong - Dreemurr sat at his desk, apparently reading some sort of a diary but absolutely motionless. Afraid of startling him, the scientist whispered his name; he turned to him sharply but smiled upon seeing a familiar face.  
"Ah, Dr Gaster. Are people waiting for my celebrating speech?"  
"I don't know if they are because I have no idea where they celebrate at all."  
"You missed the memo?", he asked, and other monster shrugged. "It's okay, I'll escort you. Now, let me finish something... I'm almost done."

He turned to face his notebook, dipped the pen into inkpot and started writing letters slowly. Gaster held himself from asking why he would use ink for a pen while he could actually use an ink pen - being polite, he remembered. As the king kept writing, he leaned to the doorjamb and watched him silently, not rushing him or giving himself out at all. By a side view, Asgore looked somehow especially... unhappy? Alone and broken down at the very least. Again did the doctor not comment on this, although he could have suggested leaving all this for good, spending the rest of day in bed with a huge mug of tea... Frankly, he'd be glad to do it himself instead of attending parties of any kind.  
"Gaster? Are you okay?"  
He seemed to become so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize the king has already finished writing and even stood in front of him; the thin monster flinched.  
"I guess so... You're already done?"  
"Yes, we're good to go... wait! Freeze!" These words caught Gaster by surprise, and he froze indeed. Asgore stared at an object just above his head, and he had to move a little back to find out that it was a mistletoe tied with a red tape at the very ceiling. "Is that a mistletoe palm?"  
"Yes... it appears so."  
"Alphys must've hung it there. Decorating and stuff..."  
"Appears so."  
Few more seconds of awkward silence. A mistletoe for monsters, similar with humans, meant yet another celebratory custom: two monsters had to kiss under the thing, bringing possible happiness in the upcoming year. Even children were aware of that and kissed each other on the cheeks, laughing and making wishes. Gaster was not a child but for some reason he remembered neglecting his own birthday throughout many years; today was one as well.

"So... it's a tradition, isn't it?"  
"It is", the monster agreed, corners of his mouth trembling and eye dots contracting so hard they actually disappear from the sockets. That looked kinda eerie.  
Asgore bent closer; Gaster didn't move an inch. Asgore closed his eyes; Gaster looked through him, gaze defocused. Asgore leaned in to kiss a corner of his mouth, but he flinched, turning face to face with the king, and their lips touched slightly. It only lasted a few moments, but in Gaster's mind, these moments turned into separate frames, and he was stuck in one position, not responding to the kiss anyhow. Some important lever in his head was stuck, and he couldn't switch it to a different state where he would embrace Asgore's neck, bury his hands into blond mane and not think about the consequences. Instead, he stood frozen, eyes still open, and made no sound.  
Asgore didn't notice the slip immediately. With an indefinite expression on his face - something between astonishment and regret, - he moved away and grasped the doctor's shoulders.  
"Oh dear, Wingdings", he mutters, "I'm genuinely sorry, I must've lost myself... I didn't want to do this. Do you hear me?"  
He hears but he does not observe; somewhere back at his mind the remnants of these words roll over and fade away slowly. One thing he knows for sure: there's no better birthday gift he'll ever get. One chance in a life.  
Eight months later, on August, 11th he will remember that and smile to himself, turning to dust.  
  
At this New Year, Asgore kisses Gaster for the first and last time.


	7. a skeleton in the closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for True Pacifist ending and "codename: ASTER"'s ending again  
> and the lyrics in italic are from "Ghosst(s)" by Lorn

Standing on the solid ground heated by the sun, feeling a tint of faint wind on his skull, he was almost ready to cry, because it was actually _over_.  
The small skeleton couldn't believe his eyesockets. There won't be any time skips, no evacuations, no tears and regrets, and his depression could give it a break as well. Around him, his friends and other monsters stood just as still as him, all sharing a growing mutual feeling: _freedom_. Glancing at them, Sans was okay with forgetting the human kid's behavior. He was the only one knowing exactly what happened during different takes of their journey, and this time he got especially happy that Frisk changed their mind - he had to kill the child before that. One failure was enough, but it still made Sans overly cautious, least willing to live through the nightmare again.

Frisk turned to him, as if they heard their name called. Sans didn't notice the stare at first and glanced back, waiting for response. What if they pull out their worn dagger and start the massacre of that coal black substance that developed inside their mind... But nothing happened. Frisk only just beckoned him with a small wave of hand, moving him step closer.  
"wazzup, kiddo?" he asked lightly, making the child squint (even harder... if possible).  
"Is something bothering you?" they asked suddenly. Sans eagerly waited for them to laugh after that, but Frisk was overly serious, obviously demanding an appropriate answer.  
"will you keep it if I tell you?" Sans muttered. All the kid's Determination flooded into their face, the answer being absolutely 'yes'. Then monster grabbed their sleeve and pulled them back underground to make sure no one would overhear them - there would hardly be anyone but Flowey to do so. Seeing that no one really noticed their departing, he stood in front of an exit, blocking Frisk's way.  
"we both know what you've done under mt. ebott", he started grimly. "how much sorrow and regret you've brought to monsters. but that's exactly why i'm telling you this: you've got every single thing you did and you won't repeat it ever again. promise me."

Human stood still, hands behind them. As they nodded, a calm crimson light radiated through their chest. Sans made a menacing grin.  
"don't you go askew now."  
Both fell silent. But Frisk didn't have to repeat their question - a while later, the monster began speaking.

"do you remember wandering around the CORE because alphys couldn't direct you well? that's not only because of mettaton but also because it was finished 'bout ten years before your fall. comparing to, say, a dreemurr's lifespan, it's a pinch of time. alphys isn't good anywhere around the CORE because it wasn't her who built the thing. another monster. get it, kid? another royal scientist, a pure genius. me and alphys worked by his side until... oh well, until he died right before the CORE was finished, and that was it. but... can you imagine it, buddy? he spent his whole last years looking for a way to destroy the barrier. the one you've just destroyed, yeah. and now, freedom is just one single step outside. he wanted to reach it just as everyone in the underground did."

Sans gazed at the darkness behind Frisk where a noisy flower and six souls were just a while ago. At some point, his mind replaced Frisk's face with Flowey's hideous grimace, and the skeleton chuckled at that. An exact copy of the kid's face as they moved onto him, covered in dust.  
"it just feels a bit unfair, that's all. i still don't get it why... did he die back then. why or what for... excluding this, i'm perfectly alright."  
This time his speech ended for good. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the child, and they tried to decide whether they should speak up now or not speak at all. But determination in their bright red soul took over every remaining doubt.

"There is something you're unaware of", they said, fidgeting. "Perhaps not unaware but not met face to face. Do you get it?"  
Sans shook his skull - he actually had no idea. What if the kid was actually bluffing? Humans are such a cunning and sneaky race when it comes to personal topics.  
"Then it's time to show you."

  
For a couple of seconds it felt like skeleton fell down into a thick fog cloud - he got used to feeling restarts on his skin. Internally Sans was ready to be deceived and have his world shifted as usual - but it hurt him so much more this time, all through those few seconds of being in a void.  
Then sunlight hit his eyes. He was in the castle's throne room: on the covered throne, Toriel sat with glasses on and laughed heartily, looking at her cell phone; apart from her, Alphys passionately described some shoujo anime plot to king Asgore with very determined Undyne to help her. His own younger brother stood right in front of him and was in the middle of something possibly very important, but Sans already got used so much to knowing everything that he didn't listen.

Hold on. Why did the restart stop here?  
A fresh thought banged inside his head: there was no restart.  Frisk ran away to check up on their friends in the underground, that's why they all were waiting here for them. It's all over.

"...and then I suggested that his majesty... Sans, you're not listening!"  
"i am, paps, i always was."  
"Then what did I just say, huh??"  
"let's play guesses later, okay?" he yawned. "i'd go for a nap right now."  
"Sans, you lazybones! Even after we're freed, your only desire is sleeping. I bet you Wingdings would get on track immediately."

This half-forgotten name gave small monster the creeps.  
"papyrus... just remembered, gotta check something out real quick. later, okay?"

Abandoning the tall skeleton's answer, he darted off and ran as far as he could from the throne room, only stopping a while later to catch his breath. God, he was such an idiot. Why couldn't he tell Papyrus the truth from the very beginning? Tell him their elder brother is dead, and 'his' letters were actually being written by Sans who spent sleepless nights drawing those endless hands and other symbols. What was he going to say now? How would he inform a long-dead forgotten monster that the Barrier was destroyed?  
His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call; answering, he recognized Frisk's voice to his surprise.

"Find the River Person and go to Waterfall", they ordered. "Now! It won't last long!"  
Some highly irrational part of Sans yelled, demanded to trust them and claimed this to be the very last chance for something. What was that something he didn't even dare to guess while the River Person mumbled odd things on their dogboat as usual. Instructions were quite unclear: go to the bridge between Snowdin and Waterfall. What was he going to find, his checkpoint?  
Things didn't go as he predicted though. Passing by his costly red-lensed telescope, he expected to see a table with cheese-containing magical crystal stuck to it; instead, an empty corridor welcomed him. Something stood out though - a tall grey door that didn't match the wall color at all. The human child waited outside of it, still hands behind their back.

"You did not expect _that_ , did you?" they smiled. Sans was about to say that _yes, he didn't,_ but one particular picture, almost forgotten and strangely vivid, came alive in his mind: the door from his weird dream in which he wandered around the kingdom unable to touch anything. A sudden and cold realization struck him; the dream was coming true before his eyes. Not expecting an answer, Frisk came closer and gave him a hand.  
"Come on, Sans. You're going to be alright."  
"i'm not", he muttered in response, and kid grabbed his bony fingers.  
"Do you know why didn't the RESET erase everything this time? Because I wanted to get _here_ , not at the very beginning. I was so lucky this door appeared again, and... Sans, there's only one chance left."  
"i know, frisk... i know."  
The door swung wide open. He gripped the child's warm tiny hand and stepped inside the almost familiar darkness.

  
It was still empty and voidlike here, just as he remembered. That's the source of uneasy feeling, similar to being trapped in a tiny camera obscura; actually, the room size almost equaled his own room in Snowdin. No light sources approached, although the darkness seemed to unwrap itself. Frisk still held his hand as if waiting for something - and they succeeded.

"So you're back, little stranger?" a voice echoed, jumping between various timbres, crackling, resembling no one and every single monster at once. Human felt the hand they gripped trembling. Black fog thickened around the two, and soon an amorphous silhouette grew in front of them, cackling softly. It needed some more time to gain a recognizable shape - just like the first time Frisk saw it, along with Sans. He froze completely, watching his best nightmare turning real.  
"Hi there, ghost", the little human waved to a black mass, and it waved back with a holed white hand. "You may know that already but... It's over. We destroyed the Barrier and now... everyone's coming home." They tried to speak calmly, feeling the silent tension growing in their companion. "And I also have... Brought you a friend of mine. I wanted you two to meet because... I thought you're somehow similar to each other."  
A ghostly figure forming at the center was developing itself further; as Frisk finished, it must've completed the metamorphose. Now the dark matter transformed into a tall creature, at least twice as taller than both visitors, coal black but having a distorted marble white face - at least it could be called a face for having a mouth and a pair of eyesockets; thin black lines crossing the masklike face resembled either scars or cracks, it was hard to tell. For the past several minutes, Sans couldn't bring himself to even glance at the figure slightly - he knew exactly what he'd see.

"Yes... we are so very similar, little human", it announced, and a reflection of a smile damaged its face even more. The monster yanked his hand from the human's and put it back into his jacket pocket.  
"we were... similar."  
"So you actually know each other?" the child gasped, getting closer to him. "I never thought you'd... that I'd be right... I'm so happy for you, ghost!"  
"his name is gaster", Sans muttered, head low.  
"My _first_ name is not Gaster, but since everyone got used to it, then..."  
"shut up. right. now."

This request was accepted. A couple of minutes passed in silence, only being interrupted by silent dripping sounds: Gaster's figure melted all the time, the dark substance dripping on its own shadow. Sans stepped forward, pushing the human kid aside, and touched the matter, still facing the floor.  
"seems like you actually live and prosper. by touch."  
"Well, partly I'm-"  
"shh. bend down a bit."

He did, bending to his level and moving face closer to the small skeleton but recoiled a second later: Sans landed a blow right under his left eye. Watching, Frisk gulped, noticing their friend's face: his eye dots disappeared, one of them being replaced by a cyan iris. Just like a while ago, as he stood in front of a knife-wielding smirking kid. Sheer horror entangled Frisk.  
"one question. just one, dings!" Sans yelled, shaking a clenched fist. "why did you do all this? _w h y did you make me kill you?!!"_  
"Sans..."

Stagnant air was tumbling around them. The skeleton's blue eye almost lacked its pupil dot; his teeth creaked from gritting too hard. One more minute, and he'd probably tear the shadow apart.  
"... that. Was. Required. Yes, my CORE program was a huge mistake, and I'm a completely blind idiot for not doublechecking it, but... Later, as I had to reset the moment of your death, I've - how do I say that - slipped out of this reality. You probably experienced that as well when this kid used their SOUL power. However, for me it lasted longer, it lasted several seconds. There, I..."

Gaster drew a huge figure in a round shape with his hands. Single droplets oozed from holes in them.  
"Years passed before me in a single moment. Imagine me, Sans. I saw events of a distant future, not even once - dozens, hundreds of times by different timelines. I saw fifth and sixth human SOULs appear and being killed either by head of the Royal Guard or that robot made by Alphys... Metalon? Met... oh well, it doesn't matter. I saw them approaching the king; I saw him killing those humans, or... them killing him. And I also saw the seventh human - that's you, Frisk. I saw you murdering monsters underground and sparing them. Somewhere among all the resets you did... I saw you standing on Mt. Ebott with other monsters, free. I saw them... my brothers smiling. Not only them though. And most of all, Sans - do you hear me? - most of all, I've never seen myself. Anywhere. Do you know what that means?"  
The skeleton was going to jape with it somehow, but kept it to himself.  
"It means the happy end does not contain me. I'd only had a shortest amount of time I was able to reset, and as I tried reasoning, you didn't listen. My fault. So I took a chance by allowing you to kill myself. See, Sans? You were going to be alright, I thought, and I was right."

The room went silent. Nobody dared to say a word. Fists still clenching, Sans stood still in front of his older brother who continued melting and stared at him with calm condescension, just like in their past.  
"Sans... Gaster. Please forgive me for this. For everything you had to see because of me."  
Both turned to the voice owner; Frisk sat by a wall, cuddling knees and looking somewhere aside.  
"This won't happen ever again. No resets. Whatever happens, everything should go as it does."  
"Nice words, little stranger, but these are only words", Gaster chuckled. Suddenly, human kid rose from their place and approached; their face, usually quiet and indifferent, glowed with something Sans never wished to see again. Goddamn Determination.  
"You need a proof, huh? That I won't lie. I could try to make some."  
"frisk, don't", the hooded monster quacked hastily, but Gaster interrupted.  
"I see what you're going to do, Frisk. I always do. But... think over, is it really worth it? Think how much everything is going to change!"  
But Frisk was too young and inexperienced (though the latter was debatable) to consider things such as 'consequences'. Sans couldn't insert a single word before they ran to the figure and squeezed it so tightly they almost ran out of breath; the red flame in their chest shined so brightly it made the monster squint. And when he opened his eyes...

"Sans?"  
The worst scenario - someone's disappearance - didn't happen. The red SOUL light's glow was enough for the surrounding darkness to vanish, Gaster remaining the only black piece. He held a relatively small body in his hands - the human apparently sleeping of unconscious. Sans' eyesockets widened.  
"you've... what have you..."  
“Sans, don’t start. I killed no one, they’re asleep, they’re _tired_ , do you understand?” Even that way, his younger brother didn’t believe him and checked Frisk’s pulse himself; it was a bit slowed down but stable and clear nevertheless. For a moment Sans was frightened that kid might've given their SOUL to Gaster which was certainly not true. But then… why did his body stop melting? 

He stepped back and took a more thorough glance at the other monster. He looked exactly like he did on his death: black coat and a beige sweater that stood out of all the dark clothing of his. Sans reached out again and touched his sleeve. Solid fabric.

"win… gdings."  
"Don't ask, Sans. Not now."  
"it can't be."  
"There's nothing impossible, brother. I guess. We should leave this place now, I'm terribly sick of this room."  
"yeah, it's like… you're a skeleton in the closet", Sans mumbled, seeing Gaster smile to his delight.  
"You haven't changed a tiny bit."  
"and you - do you understand you'll need to explain your absence to papyrus, huh?"  
"I'll take responsibility. Least I can do."  


Returning to the castle took surprisingly little time, even though the MTT-Resort elevator was still busy and they had to go through the CORE. Gaster stopped for a bit to admire his creation for the last time - they weren't going to return, anyway.  
Inside the castle, elevators went offline too. Frisk woke up during their trip, and the skeletons slowed down, listening to their incredible story and not even interrupting a single time - although they _did_ have many questions to ask. After an explanation on the Barrier's destruction, both brothers agreed that the king shouldn't probably find that out, or Alphys would just be purely doomed. Surely, they didn't know that she'd already been fired for Amalgamates… fired by the queen. Was Gaster ready to meet her after all the negative feelings he experienced? And what about the king to whom he promised that either the Barrier is going down or he himself is? Prophecy came true. 

Frisk also told them in a tangled way how they restored Gaster to his normal condition. Asriel combined all SOULs of the underground, but as they were coming back there was an unattended one, so kid just retrieved it without a word. They felt whom it could belong to and they were planning on a return to Waterfall, but at the very last moment they took Sans as well. The scientist suggested that his SOUL could materialize by pieces in the light of Frisk's constant resets; he also mentioned the incident with Asgore's death of the violet SOUL but never said a thing about his mother. Peace between him and Sans was so tender and fragile that he couldn't risk. 

Monsters must have moved forward a bit, as there was no one in Throne Room; Undyne was already peeking outside, ready for almost everything. Frisk went on and was met appropriately: Toriel spoke soft excuses for not waiting for them and almost leaving without human kid - though she'd never allow that, of course. Then Papyrus announced joyfully that weather is perfect and it's probably summer going on; he also noticed his elder brother waiting aside.  
"Sans, what took you so long? Lazyboning again, huh??" he shook a finger reproachfully at him, although a wide grin took up his whole face. "Who's there with you?"

The skeleton stepped aside and sighed solemnly.  
"you talked about how wingdings would do important stuff, and so on… so what are ya up to, bro?"  
Moving forward, Gaster stepped out of a dark spot, almost merging with it. Papyrus' expression was hard to put into words, but the fact he clutched his second brother as if afraid he'd disappear would surely be enough to describe his joy.  
"Oh no, brother. Please don't cry", the monster pleaded, squeezed in a tight hug to the point of his ribs crackling. "I'm gonna do that too, and I hate crying… oh dear, you grew so damn tall."  
"Why didn't you visit us for holidays?? Did you receive my birthday gifts? My letters?? I've sent one few days ago, is it still in progress?" He looked at his face and freaked out instantly. "Where'd the cracks come from? Accidents? Why didn't you write about them???"  
"Didn't want to make you worry… forgive me, Papyrus", Gaster quacked, trying to hug him back awkwardly. "Forgive me for everything."  
"It's okay, it's okay. We're gonna start a new life on the surface! Every New Year together! Every birthday!!"

Birthday… It surely has been a while since he celebrated it. Memories on the last birthday were one of those small things that somehow supported the crashed, tossed around time and space and half-dead monster - along with watching his brothers, too. Gaster hoped vaguely that these memories, these moments of being near Asgore most of the time, helping him and just talking - these would remain. And the last birthday, being the last New Year. A selfish point of view, but… He'd rather hold onto the good past than hope for his return. 

"Doctor Gaster?.. Are you alright?"  
He barely escaped his brother's embrace - and something big and furry grasped him, clearly not awaiting any objections.  
"Queen… Toriel… would you please…"  
"I thought Alphys becoming the Royal Scientist meant you're in trouble! And you must've only resigned. Quite a frighten you did me, doctor!"  
Unable to say anything, Gaster was rethinking himself. Whoa. So many years of antipathy towards the queen, but now… He never imagined how she herself would treat him.  
"Oh well… You and Sans must know each other, right? You're quite akin, you know." Tori smiled, and Sans set his hands akimbo.  
"he's actually my elder bro, so yes… we _are_ akin."

The former Royal Scientist didn't listen to the yelps of surprise anymore; as he was let go, he could finally reach an exit to the surface - freedom, so long wished for. Somewhere outside, Undyne yelled cheerfully, already threatening to meet up with humans of the nearest town and act as ambassadors; and prior to that, she volunteered to reach human community while carrying both Alphys and Frisk on her shoulders - just because she freaking could. Near a cleft which looked more like a doorway, the king's solitary figure stood, slightly touching the cleft's top with the horns; he must've missed the whole conversation behind him.  
"Your majesty… will you forgive me for such an abrupt departure I did?" Gaster asked quietly, approaching him.

The king turned to him and froze a marvelous expression on his face. The thin monster had never seen him like this, even watching timelines passing by. Perhaps because Gaster himself wasn't present in those timelines?  
"So you are… alive…" he chuckled with slight disbelief. "Where… were you… and where did the second crack come from?" He carefully turned the monster's head closer to a light source and observed the cracked left eye worriedly, just like a caring mother. "Did you forget our etiquette? No titles."  
"That's, that's only courtesy, your maj- Asgore." Dreemurr sighed and shook his head, nodding towards Sans and Toriel.  
"My wife was actually alive, Wingdings. Miraculous, isn't it? After all the mourning… Monsters must be horrified now. Though nothing really changed… I mean, between us. You know why."  
"I do."

There was nothing else to answer. Spending a decent amount of time in his drowsy state of mind, he didn't really hope for this situation to repeat. For him to stand by the king's side as nothing happened.  
"We missed you, Gaster. Alphys was very depressed over your departure. Sure, she was promoted to be the Royal Scientist, but… In my opinion, the worst thing that can happen to a scientist is to replace their supervisor."  
"I didn't think anyone would remember… me", the monster confessed under his breath.  
"…what? Just because someone passes away or resigns doesn't mean they become crossed out forever. _You_ must understand what that means."  
"I'm trying."  
"Oh, Gaster, Gaster", Asgore sighed sadly, turning away. Gaster agreed with the unspoken thought: even after making significant progress in science, he wasn't very successful when it came to social side. Just now - an idea materialized in his head, and he did not reject it like in the past, _oh he did not._  
He stepped aside to be right in front of the king, and then, slow and careful, as if trying to avoid breaking him into pieces, he touched his cheekbones with both hands. He silently hummed something illegible, resembling an old song he used to hum to calm down.  
  
_i've watched this ghost so long, it feels like home to me_  
  
Palms slid down to the king's chest and parted there; thin hands enfolded Asgore as much as they could reach. Gaster closed his eyes and buried his face in an Angel on the king's chest.  
  
_we've seen him wail, he keeps his tail tucked in between_  
  
"Remember what I said when I promised to break the Barrier? Apart from that. Though, oh, it's been so long…"  
"I remember."  
"Mmh. So... I didn't lie to you."

"I never doubted that", Asgore grinned, feeling the hands around him tighten. "It wasn't only Alphys who got upset, you know. There's a reason I said _we missed you_."  
"Great…" the monster sniffed, though he lacked a nose to do that in a full meaning. His barely working left eye glowed with a dim white color; it happened so seldom that he didn't pay attention. Perhaps. Perhaps there are second chances, and if fate chose to push Frisk into his way, why wouldn't he take an opportunity?  
It was only then Gaster noticed how much he wanted to take a nap. Actually, scattered across timelines, he never slept - he did not _exist_ at all; now the fatigue hit him with all its might. 

"Sans", he muttered sleepily, not really noticing a clawed hand covering his back, "I think I made up my mind about actions on the surface. That anomaly I've told you about, the Determination phenomenon, all of that is worth researching… But first - I'll get some sleep. Certainly."


End file.
